


Dead Awake & Wide asleep?

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dad!Tony, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sleep Paralysis, Son!Peter, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony is a good dad, life advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: When Peter's sleep paralysis acts up, his father is always there to help him up again.





	Dead Awake & Wide asleep?

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE LIKE FIVE MORE DAYS TILL I MEET WOLFYPUPPYPILES IN PERSON AND IMMA CRY

The youngest Stark’s eyes opened in a flash, body taut with fear as his body remained asleep while his brain fired up. The moonlight crept in his room, illuminating it in a faint glow that only made the darkness worse. 

Peter murmured, struggling to just lift a finger as his peripheral caught one of the many demons he saw when his body decided to stay slumbering when his mind just couldn’t. A quiet sob bubbled from behind his lips. 

Tears welling up only to fall down his cheeks, the slow but daunting shadow came closer, his finger trying desperately just to move so he could run to his father. So the damn demon thing could just go away.

“Mmmm!” Peter called, breathing noisily through his nostrils as glowing eyes burned through him. The teen was screaming behind closed lips, feeling the presence coming closer and closer as his body somehow felt heavier. As if the mattress was grabbing him, pulling him down. Something was so close to reaching him, looking to do something, anything to him. Peter didn’t know, and couldn’t help but plead for his body to just wake up. 

In a second Peter could hear the door open and sighed when the room lit up around him. 

His father’s voice a blessing, “Hey now, I’m here,” the man assured, taking a seat on the bed beside him. The inventor immediately noticed the teen’s eyes didn’t move to meet his own. Still cautiously staring to the side as if something was there and if he looked away he was a goner.

“It’s okay bambi, look at me,” Tony cooed, hand coming up to cup the boy’s cheek. Keeping it high enough to create a barrier so the boy couldn’t see whatever his mind had conjured to torment him. Only then did Peter’s eyes meet his own, scared, pleading, and Tony could only imagine if the boy could speak he’d be screaming ‘help me’ just as much as his eyes were. The father’s free hand intertwined with the boy’s, noticing his son’s fingers twitching in an attempt to regain control.

“That’s it bambi, do you think you can give my hand a squeeze?” A soft attempt followed, as more tears fell down the boy’s face and small whimpers tried desperately to escape.

“You got it Pete, just a little more,” Tony encouraged, the hand blocking the monsters falling down the teen’s side until it pushed beneath the body, pulling the boy into a sitting position, leaning heavily into his chest.

Tony cradled the boy’s head so it rested along the column of his throat, where no monsters or demons, or whatever the hell Peter saw could hurt him. He didn’t know what Peter saw during his episodes because Peter always refused to tell him, and the sleep technician and therapist had confidentiality so they couldn't offer up any information either.

His large hand squeezed the boy’s smaller one, smiling softly as the appendage curled and twitched in an attempt to regain control until it finally and properly squeezed back. The teen suddenly lurching in his arms all at one. Knocking him back a bit on the bed, so he could openly sob into the safest place he knew.

The inventor rubbed the child's back, cherishing the fingers now digging into his shoulder's when they’d been useless before. 

“You did so good Pete, so good,” Peter continued to weep, nuzzling under his chin and staining his shirt with tears. Rocking the teen, Tony gathered up the blankets and set them around the boy’s shoulders. Not surprised when Peter let go of him, just for a second, only to pull it up higher as a hood before he was back to hiding away in his chest.

Any true thought of sleep Tony knew had been banished from his son’s mind, but Tony, determined, knew he’d get Peter back it sleep. It was one, and he had no intention of letting Peter, exhausted, stay up any longer.

“Lets go to my room Petey Pie,” instead of getting up, Tony took the boy’s folded form in his arms. Carrying the teen down the hall and into his bedroom where he knew Peter would feel safe.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” The teen murmured into his father’s throat, clinging as the inventor tried to set him down. Almost as if the bedsheets would burn the second he touched them. Sleep such a threat, the teen didn’t even want to risk the soft temptation those several thousand thread counts held.

“You don’t have to Pete, just lay down for a bit. Okay?” the teen nodded begrudgingly, letting his father set him down and wrap him up in the softest blankets available. Tony saddled up beside him, letting the teen chuff into his neck. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” the question never got answered, everytime he asked. He wanted to know why his son wouldn’t tell him. Peter never lied to him, never liked to keep secrets, what he did do was disobey. Not all the time, but if there was something that sparked the Stark stubborness in his blood, Peter would revolt like crazy. Bypass his systems, hack into computers, even steal one of their cars.

_ And crash a plane. _

God, Tony loved him more than life itself. In response the teen buried his face in his father’s throat. Taking solace in the warmth, before the teen’s eyelids tugged. A yawn breaching his lips, before he smothered it with his father’s throat. 

Not wanting to fall back asleep, not wanting to risk the potential demons returning and holding his throat in their long wiry but sharp claws. Tony slid an arm more securely around the boy before securing his head.

It was a tight position, the blanket and embrace. A little trick for babies, but Tony knew it’d still work on Peter. The coddled position allowed less movement, which if Peter squirmed he would only tire himself out quicker, and if he didn’t he’d still be encouraged to sleep.

“Pete, if something was bothering you. You would tell me, right?” The boy didn’t hesitate to nod in response. The action pulling hard on his sleepy head. Now that he was safe, warm, and reassured. Peter fell asleep. His father joining him an hour or two later, having been perfectly content to watch the child sleep without further disruption.

\---

The episodes varied, sometimes Peter would get them in close clusters over a span of a few weeks. While other times it was once every few months. They started after his experiences with Skip. They got even worse after that summer with his Aunt and Uncle when he held his Uncle in his arms as he took his final breaths.

They now normally lined up when something on patrol went awry. But it wasn’t exclusive to that. They liked to sneak up on him.

“Dude I can’t wait for our sleepover tonight!” Ned squealed, and Peter grinned. Tony was a great dad, but he was also rather hidden. He had to be or else he could get hurt, or worse. So sleep overs almost never happened, luckily his dad allowed him to sleep over at Ned’s. 

Another reason Peter often didn’t get to do sleepovers is because of his little sleeping problem. He just never thought he’d have an episode at his friends house. 

Peter’s eyes propped open, the room around him unfamiliar. Only making his chest grow tighter as he struggled to pull in desperate breaths through his nostrils. He could hear his friend snoring on the bunk below him. His fear addled brain not even registering it _as_ his friend, but a demon. Eyes shifting and lowering, the teen tried desperately to shift his eyes to his hand so he could focus on lifting his finger to no avail.

Sobbing, the teen struggled as the pitter patter of growls and footsteps crawling amongst the walls came closer. When he crawled on the walls there was no sound, whatever was doing it now most likely didn’t need the grace and secrecy he did.

The thing only needed to pounce and he’d be a dead. His brain screamed for his father to come save him. He always helped wake him up, and regardless of the situation he’d always save him.

But here, stuck in a place he couldn’t recognize and some  _ thing _ was crawling towards him the faith in his father saving him was slim. Peter swore the mattress dipped as the shadow crawled up on top of him. Long inhuman arms reaching forward to wrap around his throat.

His closed lips tried so desperately to call out to his father.  His body refusing to cooperate, to save him as those hands took hold. Stealing his breath as it sat on his chest. It’s soulless eyes taking hold of him.

In a gasp, the teen managed to sit up all at once. A silent scream permeating the air, as the teen took in his surroundings, his hands around his throat in protection. Realizing he was in his friends room with Ned snoring below, the teen silently cried, heart aching to go home. Ned’s home didn’t feel safe. Not without Friday or Karen in the ceiling, bulletproof glass, and the armada of suits that would inevitably come to his aid if anything were to go wrong.

Scaling down the bunk, the teen silently packed his things. Leaving a note to his friend in apology, as he opened the door and crept out of the building. His phone in hand, but he didn’t bother in checking the time and opted to call his father.

The dial took its time until a gruff voice answered, “Petey?”

“Dad,” the teen cried hoarsely, chuffing into the receiver. His father’s voice was much more alert then, almost angry, Peter knew it was the man’s protective hysteria creeping in.

“What’s wrong?”

“The things, and I couldn’t move. You weren’t there to help me wake up-you weren’t there,” the teen sobbed, unaware the ‘you weren’t there’s’ were cutting through his father’s core. 

“I’m on the way Bambi, don’t worry,” Tony called, already suiting up but also having Happy get up and drive over. The man wouldn’t be too pleased due to it being three in the morning. But Tony knew he’d inconvenience thousands of people if it meant his child wouldn’t call him sounding so desperately afraid.

He could still hear his son sobbing over the phone, and he tried to assure the boy as his thrusters charged and he was blasting over. The second he landed in front of the boy, he was pulling the teen into his arms.

Mindful of the suits edges, Peter whimpered into his father’s shoulder. A sweaty and shivering mess, calling for his help.

“I’m here Pete, I’m here,” The teen frowned brokenly at that, before it turned into a wide grin of relief as he cried. Lips wobbling and bitten as he nuzzled home back into his father’s chest.

“Happy’s on the way with the car Pete, then we can go home. I’ll make you some hot chocolate when we get back.” 

The teen nodded, the thought of the warm drink with marshmallows, whipped cream and sprinkles helping bring the warmth back to his shivering bones. When the car arrived, Tony helped them huddle into the car. Tucking the teen into his side, Peter watched as they drove away from his friends home. Feeling as if he was the worst friend in the world. Poor Ned would wake up wondering where he went.

Ned knew about Spider-Man, not about the whole ‘I’m Tony Stark’s son’ or that ‘yeah being Spider-Man is great but along with the trauma that comes from that I’ve also been raped and held one of my closest family members as they died.’ So that complicated things.

“I couldn’t breathe,” the child sobbed, Tony moving to inspect the boy’s throat. Of course, no marks were in sight. Tony hated how sometimes he hoped there would be, not because he liked seeing his son hurt.  But it’d be evidence enough that there was something he had to fight. Something he could do to help, but no, this was all in Peter’s head. He was helpless to do anything. Helpless wasn’t a good look on him.

It made him sick, furious. He’d have to call the therapist and sleep technician again, Peter would be upset. The teen didn’t even tell him about what he saw at night, didn’t recount any real details from Ben’s death or those months when Skip tormented him.  He didn’t know a thing, and Peter seemed to enjoy his therapist’s company. Just at times it was hard to look back on those moments, and Peter had never been an open book. At least not when it came to his pain.

Also sleeping with those wires stuck to his head, sleep studies making it harder to sleep. Especially when the doctor forbade him from going in to help Peter because they needed to let Peter get through it on his own.  Learn to calm himself. To breathe, rationalize the horrors he saw weren’t real. Anything that would make these things more manageable. The car stopped and Tony popped open the doors. Giving a grin to his sleepy driver in thanks as he led the boy to the kitchen.

“Let’s get you your hot chocolate,” the teen took a seat on the counter. Watching with big doe eyes as his father got to work. 

“Thank you,” the teen murmured, as the Keurig secreted his treat into a mug. His father dousing it with whipped cream before sprinkling the tiny marshmallows and sprinkles on top.

Tony smiled in turn, watching as the boy sipped on his treat. His lip being covered with the frothy white only to smile before he frowned, “Do you think Ned will be okay? I did just leave, and his bunk probably needs a new change of sheets,” the boy grimaced as he looked down at his outfit.

He didn’t smell too good and he was sure his shirt would have permanent sweat stains, but at least he had something extra to wear when he trained.

“I’m sure he’d understand, if not I can always buy him new sheets,” Tony supplied easily, rubbing the boy’s back and encouraging him to take another sip of his drink.

“You can’t buy me another friend though,” Peter responded a little helplessly, looking up at his father with worried eyes.

“Bambi, I highly doubt your friend of what, seven years? Maybe more. Would leave you over sweating in his bed after you had a..nightmare. Episode. Whatever we call it. If he doesn’t want to be your friend because of that, he’s not a good friend to begin with. Don’t waste your time with people who aren’t understanding of your situation. I know that’s hard because of Spider-Man. Obviously you can’t tell that to every friend you meet, unless you want to stop the secret identity thing. But Ned knows, and I’m sure he understands that what you do is going to have some side effects. And-well if he doesn’t, he can have a talk with me,” the grin he added at the end had the boy giggling and shaking his head.

“I doubt you’ll have to do that dad,” Peter refuted, accepting the kiss to his temple his father supplied.

“And if you’re so sure I won’t have to, then you have nothing to worry about. C’mon finish your cup and let’s get back to bed,” Taking another long sip of his drink, the teen eventually nodded. 

He knew his episodes would likely dip in and out of his comfort zone, but he was slowly but surely learning to collect himself and he could always call Ned and explain in the morning. But for now he was content to take up his dad’s offer and crawl into the large california king with his dad right there in case another episode called to him. 


End file.
